


Daddy's Little Girl

by ClassicalTorture, Write_like_an_American



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Demonic Possession, Domestic Violence, Gen, Imprisonment, Killing, Matricide, Original Character Death(s), Past Child Abuse, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:10:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicalTorture/pseuds/ClassicalTorture, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write_like_an_American/pseuds/Write_like_an_American
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the family vacation goes wrong all that is left for the father of the torn apart family is trying to keep the monster contained. The monster that is now inside his daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy's Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Written alongside Write-Like-An-American and Egyptiandeathgod

> I had fun with “Daddy”, he is way wider then how I usually draw men, more solid, definitely a guy that works with is hands.
> 
> But I could already imagine a backstory for him
> 
> Little family of three. He’s a mechanic, she’s a store clerk, and a little girl in kindergarten, they probably live in a tiny little house, next to a river with a lazy old dog. And everything is going great, he’s starting to make a little more money in the shop, and the wife picked up a few more hours at the store to be able to go to vacation to the city. Little girl is doing good in school.
> 
> So when they save up just enough, they take his pickup truck to that vacation, dog in the bed of the truck. Girl happily nestled between her parents in the cab, with her mom wearing a pretty dress and a hat.
> 
> But then when they stop at a diner to get some food, a man approaches their table and starts talking, friendly guy, real nice by the sound of it, charms the dad with talk of classic car, compliments the mother on her pretty dress, looks just like from expensive shop in the big city and then just very lightly runs his hand over the little girls’ pigtails, finishes the talk, walks away and it’s only when they start driving on that the mom notices that the girl’s gon real quiet, isn’t playing with her bear, isn’t looking outside anymore just staring dead ahead. She tries to shake her up a bit, laughs about some things. But the girl ain’t doin nothin, the dad starts getting concerned as well. He’s about to pull over when the daughter goes batshit insane, she lunges at momma, she tears into her throat
> 
> Daddy loses control of the car, the truck slams out of the road, hit some mailboxes, runs into the nearby store, all the onlookers know is that there is a bloody lil girl clutching to her mother and a man sliding out of the front door, staring in horror at what is happening, doesn’t take long for the cops to come take the crazy child away, ambulance to carter off the mom. Try to get the story out of daddy, only he aint’ speakin, he don’ know what happened, they rule it out as a freak accident, release the girl to her father, after he buries his wife, her mother. 
> 
> Girl is quiet, ain't talking, some time passes she attacks another child in school, tears out her hair, takes a chunk out of her arm, scares the whole class as she calmly sit back down to her place in the rug and starts coloring, daddy gets called.
> 
>   
>  It ain’t good, they tell him to take her to a madhouse, get her checked, he ain’t wanna do it, but that’s two people she’s hurt, and one of em is dead, daddy tries to talk to her, and she’s real sweet. She says she ain’t mean it, just that the other girl was being mean, hurting her feelings. He tries to tell her that she can’t do things like this, that they will take her away from him if it keeps happening, and oh she doesn’t want that. Ain’t ever gonna let you go. Daddy you’re gonna be mine forever. Now lil girls say that often, but he gets scared, cause it ain’t a normal lil girl anymore, there’s something lurking in those green eyes, same as his, same as his momma’s, same madness that was in her mean look, real scary. Daddy ain’t got money for therapists or checkups. Now that his wife’s gone, he has to work twice as hard in the shop, and they aren’t that generous. Nobody’s gonna pay him for shit even if he works his fingers to the bone if there’s just no money to pay
> 
>   
>  Girl starts getting worse, she gets meaner, she gets smarter, no more kids in school getting bit and hurt, but the homeless are disappearing, the old army vet’s that’s been rummaging through the garbage by the school ain’t been by in a few days now, crazy cat lady down the street ain’t been out to pick up cat food in a week, and her place is starting to stink up of more than just cat piss. Daddy knows, he does the laundry after all, he sees the blood and the shit on the lil girl’s clothes. Knows she’s responsible, and he sees the way she stands in the door of his bedroom at night for hours, not moving, not saying anything, with only subdermal, visceral, clicking coming out of her mouth in a low frequency. Making him lay there unmoving, staring up at the ceiling as she stares.
> 
> So one day, he can’t do it anymore, he dresses her up nicely, takes her to the park, ignores the scared looks others give them, gets his lil girl ice cream, and watches a move with her, and then he brings them home and tells her he’s gonna help her with her hair. Oh the lil girl seems real happy, she sits there on her mother’s vanity, cheap plastic seat made up to look like an imitation of richness. Looks down at her late mom’s jewelry, doesn’t see as daddy slides a butcher knife into her throat and calmly severs her head up from her body. Looks back at him still with a smile as he holds her head in his big tan hand, blood dripping out of her eyes and ears
> 
> “Oh daddy, I still ain’t gonna let you go”  
>  He goes to prison, cause the police ain’t gonna let a man who killed his daughter go free. He is serene, goes with them peaceful, all 6'5 of him, after the first night, some inmates start getting bold, try to push him down. "Daddy" ain’t budging, he’s sitting down at the tables, just eating his mush. Late at night the guards hear screaming from one of the cells where the guy that’s been trying to mess with ‘im, is broken and bleeding, every bone in his arms crooked and pushed out of sockets, and he’s stuck to the bottom of the top bunk, shit like that start happening. Anyone comes closer than 10 feet to the man ends up in a … new bodily experience. 
> 
> Maybe a new guy gets transferred in for a minor crime, something small but he’s annoying and he got in somebody’s important way so he gets put with “Daddy”. Now at first he thinks that the guy’s called that because he fucks everyone and likes to be called it, but it’s just this quiet huge dude, big hands, calm green eyes, peaceful as a brick. Only everybody is terrified of him, nobody sits close, nobody comes close to him.  Even guards don’t come over to the man. Now the new guy is actually there for a reason, he got caught on purpose, because he heard what’s happened with this man and what keeps happenin.  
>  The spirit that possessed the girl has now latched onto the daddy, it starts off as a sense that she hasn’t gone yet, that she’s still there, watching him, perhaps he start off thinking it’s some sort of religious thing - she’s looking down on him but that swiftly erodes as he realizes people are dying. This isn’t the little girl he knew before, it’s the meld of girl and monster he’s raised ever since that day at the diner but after a while even that personality starts to blur. Any sense of an individual around him wanes, there’s just this… energy, an energy spurred by the single focus to protect him, keep him alive, stay with him, it’s completely silent, just a vague feeling on the periphery of his senses, but sometimes he kids himself into thinking it buzzes and hums sometimes in the night he becomes quieter and quieter, entire being honing on that half-imagined sound, trying to track it, understand it.
> 
> Stops doing even the small routines he’d managed to piece together around him after his wife and daughter’s death (although it’s hard to think of her as his daughter, not anymore. He didn’t kill her; she was long dead before he put that knife to her throat). Just sits for hours on end quiet and contemplative, head tipping sometimes towards that buzz, like angry bees on another dimension, fighting to break through and perhaps, on some level of consciousness, he realizes this is exactly how his daughter acted in the car as she set down her teddy bear, paying no attention to the scenery flashing by ignored her mom’s jokes seemed engrossed with something only she could hear.
> 
> This newb to the prison, he read about the case in the paper got himself carted off there special didn’t take much - just a few crimes in the right places, on the right people, he makes himself unlikeable enough that they shove him with the ‘Daddy’. They’re probably hoping he’ll wind up splattered on the underside of his bunk like all the rest but he’s got another plan. He’s a rowdy sort of fella, in comparison to daddy’s stoicism lived his entire life partying, doing drugs, whole shebang. Only problem is, that sort of lifestyle isn’t sustainable but he’s something different on the inside isn’t he. Within a couple of years after being kicked out of his parents’ house, he found himself homeless living in an abandoned subway station, in one corner of which there was a hole. Just a lil hole bout the size of his fist, tiny really. Seemed to lead right down into the earth couldn’t see the bottom couldn’t hear the pennies he scrounged bounce off anything on the way down as if that hole opened up into a cavern, the entire earth hollowed out beneath it and sometimes he hears things through that hole whispers in languages he doesn’t understand high off his head, drunk and poor, nothing else to live for, those voices are something to cling to he tells himself why the hell should he be scared? He’s at rock bottom, right?
> 
>  Nothing more can happen to him probably just a weird trip but nevertheless, he wants to hear more of those weird voices, speaking in that tongue he doesn’t know how he understands, telling him to do things to do a crime here a robbery there, telling him things he should never know - the taste of human flesh, how long you can keep a body alive while you slowly devour it…They lead him into crime, maybe give him hints help him on his way to becoming a criminal, lead him to this prison and this man, they’re the ones that want whatever’s dwelling in him or around him, one of their own, lost in the upper world, they need it back to have the strength to let them all break free but it has to be carried to them by hosts
> 
> If Daddy thinks back far enough. He may notice something amiss with the man that touched his Lacey. Perhaps the crooked too-wide-for-his-face smile. Or the too friendly almost purr to his voice.
> 
> The angry buzzing seems to be softer. A purr maybe? The purr of an Apex predator waiting oh so patiently for its time to strike.
> 
> This thing, this entity. It’s primal and sinister beyond comprehension. Whispering suggestions and tips for how to snap a guards neck or pry apart the jaws of their canine companions to look inside.
> 
> It had been very still, the daughter was so weak, so vulnerable to influence. Her mind an open casket. But it did not want the girl, it wanted the man. It needed to break him, tear his strength piece by piece until a viable shell is left behind. So it took away his only support system. It took his wife.
> 
> Easy pickings, the female wasn’t a very good fighter. Her blood had tasted delicious with fear-betrayal-danger of her panic.
> 
> Humans are stupid. Tolerating another annoying child isn’t within it’s capacity, logically it reacts and disposes of the …distractions. First the classmate, then the old men leading feeble lives. How sorry their existence is.
> 
> The cat lady was too suspicious and wary if the Host. Why not dispose of her too Before she causes trouble and ruins the plan?
> 
> It was excited when the father—Daddy! Seemed to except his fate. The outing was pleasant but it longed to massacre the screaming offspring and horrified parents.
> 
> Being killed so swiftly, the precision and calm. It is both proud/betrayed. Proud of cultivating a prime habitat for itself. Betrayed that this new Host was ungrateful.
> 
> It forgives Daddy. After all, the daughter was a tiresome strife that dulled and became boring.
> 
> It hated jail at first. Being confined to a cage. The Host endangered and under scrutiny. However, adapting became seamless. These inmates were good prey to feed on if Daddy ever allowed it. For now it would snap their limbs and shatter their bones.
> 
> Lawrence “Lori” Hursh stops caring about things the moment the thought about killing the husk of his daughter enters his mind. Upon the execution of that thought he had shut himself in his conscience, floating through the world with the nonchalance of a man with nothing left to loose.  
>    
>  He doesn’t pay attention to the wide space every inmate gives him. Doesn’t care that the guards stay away and that every now and again there are horrific screams coming from a cell not too far from his. A  brief flash of surprise flares in when they put another man into his room and he is still there after a week though. Because so far the limit’s been a night. 
> 
> But the buzzing at the edge of his ear never stops, never get quieter or louder, present and constant. It fills his brain with noise and distracts him from anything else. What concern is it to him if another started dwelling in his vicinity?
> 
> Daddy ain’t one to sweat small stuff. Not after a childhood of his momma bearing the same mad green eyes as his lil girl. After having to sleep in the crawlspace under the house when she went off on a rage again and again. Witnessing her ripping his brother apart…
> 
> The quiet fear of prison is nothing.
> 
> At least up until the man on the bunk atop of his doesn’t start chanting something… something that breaks through the haze.
> 
> The Host had a mother with part of it trapped inside. The brother was too fragile for a vessel. Every time, Daddy had hidden too well. Now there is no hiding.
> 
> For some odd reason or another, it can tolerate the newcomer. The first several days took a bit of getting used to. He’s quiet and doesn’t pester them like the last one. There’s a kinship it senses.
> 
> The sense of being calm and content is snapped in half by the chanting. It writhes and hisses. Suggestions of how to shut him up. Rip off his jaw or simply tear out his trachea. Maybe even punch his Adams apple. Smother him with his own pillow. Choke him!
> 
> It shrieks and the buzzing gets louder to attempt to drown the noise. To return to that haze that incubated the savage inside.
> 
> It ain’t right. Something ain’t right. He ain’t supposed to sit calmly while men die outside of his cell. Heck, he was never supposed to be in a cell.  
>    
>  The chanting from above gets louder, and Lori’s head just gets clearer. The buzzing that had made its home in him for the last few month is settling, going quieter. Still there on the back of his mind, still pestering his ears. But it’s not so annoying anymore.  
>    
>  Daddy hasn’t felt like that in… a very long time now. Words and cadence rolls over the air and he stares at his hands. His hands that used to throw his lil girl up into the air and twirl Kathy by the waist. Fixed every damn machine that came round the garage, even from the big town fat fuck that heard that a “Lori” was gonna be fixin’ his ride and proceeded to bring up a stink about a woman being out of her place. Last squeelin’ he did before Lori tapped his nametag and grimly smiled at the oil man from his 6″5 height. 
> 
> The gangly man above is still speakin. Still soundin like nonsense. But the more he speaks, the more Lori wakes up. The more life comes back to those forest greens. Shedding the persona of Daddy and bringing back the actual person.  
>    
>  That’s why it’s a such goddamn surprise and feels like an engine falls on him when the gangly guy stops and the ear-blasting buzzing returns.
> 
> Too many memories, too much. It needs Daddy. It needs him NOW! The chanting is forcing it back into the dark corner where it-doesn’t-want-to-go, won’t stay. Won’t stick.
> 
> Too much to push back and protect what belongs to it. The thing fights for a hold as memories slide by and the haze is dissolved nearly.
> 
> It conserves strength because this intruder, this enemy, cannot chant forever. So it waits for a pause to strike. Buzzing full force sounds more like a furious growling. Urging Daddy to forget, to be calm and safe. To stay connected to it.
> 
> Screeching in fury it urges Daddy to get up, to stop this intruder from doing anymore damage. Forget forget FORGET! KATHY IS DEAD! LACEY IS DEAD!
> 
> They don’t matter anymore Daddy. It won’t ever let it’s Host go.
> 
> Tear his face off. KILL KILL KILL. HisLuckHasEndedHere
> 
> Morning brings another disfigured pile of flesh stuck to the underside of the bunk. Just like the others, it is still alive, wheezing out of a torn open aorta, twisted meat shuddering as it is entangled in the springs of the bunk.  
>    
>  Daddy sits there just like always. Not a speck of blood on him, not a winkle out of place on the prison garb. He ain’t bothered by this shit. Hasn’t been before, and ain’t about to be now. After all…
> 
> There’s nothing left for him to live for.
> 
> Yes, forget everything Daddy. It buzzes gently, no more writhing inside. Just a gentle cool slide of movement as it adjusted.
> 
> It is hungry. It begs Daddy to give in. Just a little taste, or a tiny nibble. One lick maybe, or a small morsel. Nobody would miss the chunks anyway.
> 
> This is what happens when things try to separate it from Daddy. It’s very protective now, the slightest attitude or stank eye is enough cause for the entity to retaliate. The iron fist that Daddy seems to have of this place is amusing.
> 
> A little nibble or lick. It craves the flavor of human flesh and blood. Please Daddy please? It wouldn’t hurt to try would it? The intruder won’t last anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> The apathy plays against it thought. There is not just no fight left in Lori. There’s simply nothing. An empty husk like the entity wanted. There ain’t emotions, there ain’t regret. No craving or desire. 
> 
> All of the fire and passion is gone. And the beast within is locked. Caged by overthinking and planning too much. Because now...
> 
> Daddy ain’t got a lil girl to throw in the air anymore and he’s just not budging.
> 
> The entity at first is confused. Then it is angry, it rages inside and screeches and shrieks and screams itself hoarse.
> 
> But isn’t this what it wanted from Daddy? No fight left means CONTROL. A simple body left to it for its own devices. A vessel to move around in and talk and walk.
> 
> This cage is also freedom if it looked at it from another perspective. Why not test drive? So it stretches, takes up space. Tries to lift Daddy’s big hands. To stretch a too-wide-for-his-face smile. Demented and crooked and gleeful altogether.
> 
> But then it slips up. A memory escaping of a little girl telling her Daddy not to give up because the game she’s playing isn’t hard to learn. Of Kathy saying if heaven is real, she’ll be watching and waiting to meet him there, if she died after they grew old together and her time came first.
> 
>  
> 
> The inmates don’t expect it. Hell the only time they see Daddy out of his cell is when the men is being led to and from mandatory therapy where he sits like a fucking statue, or in the cafeteria, calmly chowing down whatever shit’s been given to them that day.
> 
> To see him walking around is... alarming and frightening. Especially when the grin comes onto his face. Man doesn’t smile. He doesn’t talk. 
> 
> This is new. And then it turns horrifying. Because those bog hands and the callused fingers get to work and the room is red and visceral within minutes; filled with gore and screams, unholy shouting of those trying to flee, trapped in the main rec room with the devil himself as the whole place goes into lockdown.
> 
>  
> 
> It loves when prey runs away and actually puts up a decent fight! Oh if only Daddy would take pleasure in the warmth of the blood, warm like Kathy was. And the squealing of inmates like his Lacey once sounded.
> 
> The entity twists the mouth into an entertained sneer. Sitting down to enjoy the buffet he’s creates by himself! Isn’t Daddy proud? It continues to gorge itself on human flesh. Avoiding any parts with hair and ignoring the feet, hands, and head.
> 
> The brains (or what’s left of them) are left alone. Devouring that organ would cause poisoning. Blinking slowly at a little survivor hiding in a trashcan. It decided to leave him be for now. Find the rest. Purring in enjoyment.
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
